


and the hero of this story don't need to be saved

by itsactuallycorrine



Series: the stars came falling on our heads [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Future Fic, basically just the two of them having a conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsactuallycorrine/pseuds/itsactuallycorrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after Clarke asked the unthinkable of Bellamy, she attends a meeting at the behest of Lexa and must see him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the hero of this story don't need to be saved

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't intending to continue this but now it's a 3-part series. You'll want to read [part one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2828315) before reading this, otherwise you might be a little lost.
> 
> In keeping with the theme I unintentionally set with the first part, the title is also from a Regina Spektor song, "Hero" this time.

Standing before the Grounder Commander, Clarke struggles to close her mouth. This isn't the first time Clarke has visited Lexa's village in the three years since Bellamy left, but it is the first time that the Commander has felt compelled to address the elephant in the room.

After a brief welcome, Lexa had dismissed her guards so that she was alone with Clarke to say, "I have not sent Bellamy away this time and will allow you to speak with him while I'm attending to another issue." Not giving Clarke a chance to process this information, she'd continued calmly, "However, Clarke, you should know that if Bellamy is unfaithful to me, I will cut his heart out in front of you."

A few tension-fraught moments have passed since that declaration and somehow Clarke manages to speak. "Lexa..." She pauses to gather her thoughts. "Bellamy and I - it's been a long time since... And I'm sure, well... circumstances have changed," she finally says, somewhat lamely. 

Lexa waves her off, looking away idly as if she were unconcerned with the trifling matter of her husband's fidelity. "As long as you are aware that there are consequences."

Even now, years later, Clarke flinches as she remembers digging the blade into soft, vulnerable skin and the shaky, " _Thanks, princess_ ," breathed into her hair. She can feel her mouth tighten and takes a breath to smooth her expression. "I'm aware."

The Commander gracefully stands and precedes Clarke out of the doorway and into the village square, leaving Clarke at a table with a brusque, "Stay," before walking away.

Clarke can feel the eyes of all the Grounders on her and does her best to avoid catching anyone's gaze, lowering herself to the wooden bench obediently. Apparently, Lexa wasn't going to take any chances and Clarke would have her reunion with the entire village watching. 

She takes the brief reprieve before Bellamy appears to try to calm her heart rate. Anxiety is coiling like a snake in her stomach and she's grateful that she skipped breakfast this morning, because otherwise she'd probably be humiliating herself right now.

It's been so long since she's seen him, spoken to him. She hadn't been prepared to see him today and vainly wishes that she'd taken more care with her appearance before setting out this morning. She rolls her eyes at her own stupidity - she'd punished him for loving her, pushed him away, into another woman's arms, and now she's concerned because her hair might look a little disheveled? 

She tries to ignore the part of her that knows she's avoiding the real issue and looks up just as Bellamy follows Lexa out of one of the bigger cabins in the village. 

Her heart jumps to her throat and she somehow finds herself on her feet, eyes surveying him head to toe to gauge his well-being.

He looks broader than she remembers - in the shoulders, along his chest - but he's still long and lean. Unlike many other men in Lexa's village, he's kept his hair short and his face clean-shaven. She doesn't readily see any new horrible scars or disfigurements, although some dark Grounder ink peaks out beneath the sleeve on his left bicep. 

Her heart aches at his familiarity and Clarke is dismayed to feel the prickling of tears behind her eyes as his dark gaze locks with hers and he smirks just a bit, a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth, at her.

"Well, well, Princess of the Sky People," he says affectionately, stopping in front of her, but not close enough to touch. Clarke tries not to remember what running into his arms feels like, although the lump in her throat is proof of how ineffective she is at doing so.

Her smile feels wobbly and unfamiliar as she greets him. "Bellamy. You're looking well. Healthy."

He smiles back at her then lays a hand on Lexa's arm, murmuring something low enough that Clarke can't hear even over the short distance between them. Lexa nods at Clarke and touches Bellamy's arm in turn, then walks away, leaving Bellamy to invite Clarke to join him at the table.

He sits on the opposite side of her and Clarke knows they must look ridiculous, simply staring at each other's faces in appraising silence. He has the faintest of lines around the corners of his eyes and more freckles than she can count now, on skin gone a few shades darker bronze. 

She wonders idly what he sees when he looks at her and finally breaks his gaze when she feels her cheeks begin to heat. Clearing her throat, she says, "I haven't had a chance to congratulate you." She looks back at him in time to see his expression melt into a wide, silly grin.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he murmurs and Clarke hears the loving adoration in his voice and returns his grin.

"She's her mother's daughter. How's it feel to be the first uncle from the Ark in decades?"

"Overwhelming." He huffs a bit and looks down, grin fading. "I just wish I could've been there with O more, you know?" he says wistfully. "It's been hard relying on Lincoln to take care of her, and now Rory, too."

"Octavia is more than capable of taking care of her child, let alone herself," Clarke feels it necessary to point out, amused when he rolls his eyes at her. She sobers a bit, though, guilt squeezing her chest. "I know it's my fault you were separated and I don't blame you for not wanting to see me since... well."

He nods. "The first few months - hell, the first year - I hated you." And his voice is not malicious, just matter of fact, but Clarke flinches all the same. "And I hated that I still loved you most of all. It was a hard transition; I barely wanted to see O during that time, although I'm glad she forced my hand there."

Clarke thinks back on those first few months, still dealing with her own grief and complete leadership of the camp and everyone looking at her with hurt eyes and whispering behind her back. 

She still remembers waking up the very next morning, staggering into his empty tent, and the crippling regret that had forced her into body-wracking sobs. 

"Bellamy," she says, voice low and hesitant, "I know that apologizing would never be enough, but I hope you know that-"

But he's leaning back, shaking his head vehemently. "We don't have to do this." And his voice is sharp, cutting at her, and Clarke wants to curl in on herself, so she purposefully squares her shoulders and faces him dead-on.

"We haven't spoken in three years." She sees him swallow hard and he's staring hard at the table top, fingers tapping impatiently against the surface. "I don't want this to hang over us for another three. I miss having you in my life."

"Guess you should've thought of that before you traded me away," he says snidely, eyes flashing but finally rising back to her face. 

She sucks in a breath and exhales shakily. "I've had a lot of time to think about this and while I admit my own culpability, I always come back to one question: why did you agree to go along with it?"

He barks out a laugh full of disbelief. "What?!"

"I'm serious. You could have said no at any point, fought it, done  _something_ other than agree to marry someone else."

"' _Someone else'_ ," he mutters almost to himself, then repeats it again louder, harsher. "See, when you say it like that, it makes it sound like  _I_ chose  _her_ over  _you_. When in reality, what happened is you foisted me onto her. And forgive me for not fighting my fate," he sneers, "but considering you killed the last guy to keep the peace with Lexa, I felt it was in my best interest to play along. Especially since you loved him and barely tolerated me."

She'd have been less shocked - and certainly less hurt - had he just slapped her, and her gasp feels more like a sob, eyes instantly filling with tears that she desperately tries to blink away. Turning her head, she bites her lips to keep it all penned in, to hang onto her composure. She closes her eyes in shame when a few tears break free and roll down her face.

Distantly, she hears him hiss under his breath, then sigh, then say her name, voice weary. "Don't cry," he orders, but she hears the plea in it. "I wish I - damn it, princess, I can't come over there and... with everyone- Please, Clarke."

She takes a few calming breaths and turns back to him. "I think we've said all we need to, Bellamy. Why don't you go about your business and I'll just wait here for Lexa?"

His jaw flexes a few times and it almost makes Clarke want to smile at his predictability, even after all this time. "No," he says, stubborn as ever, "we're not leaving things like this. That was uncalled for."

"It's obviously something you've been meaning to say to me for a while." She tries a smile, but it feels more like a grimace, so she lets it drop. "It hasn't all been bad, has it?" she asks hopefully. 

He seems willing to go along with the change in topic. "No, it hasn't. Once the village accepted me as Lexa's consort, I learned a lot - about the land, about their customs. Between me and Lincoln, Octavia should basically be able to teach Grounder 101 back at the camp."

And she all but had. Clarke had even attended some of Octavia's lectures about the Grounders' methods on hunting and gathering, on preparing for winter and how to combat the summer humidity. The information had been invaluable to preserving their camp's collective sanity. 

"She's really turned into such an amazing woman, Bellamy," Clarke confides with a soft smile for him. "You did a great job with her."

"It wasn't all me," he says humbly, looking away and rubbing at his neck. "The last few years, she's been nipping at your heels, hasn't she?"

"I don't know what I'd do without her." And it was true. Although Miller did step up and take many of Bellamy's responsibilities regarding safety, Octavia was the one to ascend into the position of authority alongside Clarke. Even when Octavia had hated Clarke, the first few months after Bellamy left, she'd been right there, as Clarke's new second.

"There you go, princess," he says with an easy smile, glancing away when some commotion caught his attention. She follows his gaze and sees a group of small children, all easily under 5, rough-housing in a patch of grass. Something in his face softens and an alarming thought strikes her.

"You don't- that is, Octavia never said if you and Lexa..." she breaks off and gestures to the children, not missing the flash of regret on Bellamy's face, before he smooths it away.

"No," he murmurs, turning back to her, "Lexa doesn't want children. At least not anytime soon." He shrugs uneasily and affects a smile, though Clarke can see it's tinged with bitterness. "It's probably just as well. I never had a father and my mother - though I loved her - wasn't exactly a shining example. Who knows what kind of father I'd be?"

"Don't be stupid." He looks at her, bemused, and she rolls her eyes. "Bellamy, we were literally just talking about how good of a parent you were to Octavia. You'd be a great dad."

He stares at her for a long beat, expression unreadable, before he glances away again and she follows his lead. "I guess I'll have to settle for being a great uncle instead." She feels him watching her from the corner of his eye, before he asks, "What about you?"

"Me?! Me, as a mother?!" She snorts. "Maybe once I'm done raising the 40-something kids I already have."

She's expecting him to laugh, but he just hums thoughtfully and says, "I miss it. Miss  _them_. It's been hard staying away."

"Maybe... maybe now it would be okay to visit occasionally. Come to the camp to see Octavia instead of meeting halfway. It'll probably be easier for them with the baby, anyway."

His eyes crinkle as he smiles and Clarke finds herself reflexively smiling, too. "I'd like that." He nods once, before going quiet again.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, until Clarke notices that Lexa has begun making her way back in their direction. She's suddenly hit with a burst of panic - there's so much she wants to say yet and she doesn't know if she'll have another chance before leaving. When she sees someone intercept Lexa, she breathes in relief and turns to find Bellamy watching her intently. It's so reminiscent of the time before he left that it makes her forget herself for a minute and she reaches to cover his hand with her own.

"Clarke," he warns, shooting a glance around, while pulling his hand back, and she feels his rejection like a shove.

"Before she comes over, answer me honestly: are you happy here, Bellamy? Is this a good life?"

He glances over to his wife then back to Clarke. "I'm... content," he answers weakly. "It's not perfect, it couldn't be, but I'm not unhappy."

There's a question she's been biting back, one she's obsessed over for months - years - and it falls out of her mouth unbidden. "Do you love her?" When he glares at her, she knows he hears the real, unasked question:  _do you still love me?_

He stands then and Clarke glances over in fear, but sees that Lexa is still stopped across the camp, still deep in conversation, so she rises to her feet and walks over to Bellamy's side of the table, putting a hand on his arm. " _Do you_?" she insists, looking up into his face.

"No," and it's a whisper, barely a breath, that fans across her face gently yet rocks her back on her heels. Then she stills and glances up because was that  _no, I don't love her_ or... But he elaborates. "I have a... fondness for Lexa, an attraction for her, but she and I both know it doesn't go deeper than that. It can't," he finishes with a significant look at her.

"Bellamy," she says, but he's pulling back, shaking his head. "Bellamy, wait. If you..." She knows not to say the words, but can't quite seem to help herself. "If you ever want to come back, I'd... You're always welcome. To come home."  _Come home to me; I'm ready now_.

He closes his eyes then, face spasming in pain, and she has to look away. "We made our choices." His voice is rough, gravelly, and it hurts Clarke as much as the words do. "We have to live with them the best we can."

She doesn't respond, can't, and turns to see that Lexa is finally free and moving their way again. Her time with Bellamy is at an end, but she doesn't know how she's supposed to walk away from him now.

For once, he takes the choice out of her hands. "Clarke." She looks back at him and he's smiling, but sadly, and her heart is a hot ball in her throat. "May we meet again."

And she wants to reply, to sob, to do anything other than stand there uselessly as he nods and walks away, his head bent to his chest, but shoulders squared and proud.

 _May we meet again_ , she thinks and turns away to attend to her business.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://itsactuallycorrine.tumblr.com)


End file.
